Business Affairs
by QueenSkellington
Summary: Tony had lived happily rejecting and disposing of the women who had to misfortune to end up in his bed. But when he's rejected by the one woman who's found her way into his heart, he gets a painful view of of what it's like to be the one rejected. M for Sex
1. Chapter 1

On the occasion that Tony hadn't had a conquest over, he often ended up sleeping in his garage/lab/general living space. He felt it unfair to just call it one of those things, for it really qualified for being so much more than that. He'd spent so many countless hours in this place, and every surface had birthed some sort of scientific discovery over the years.

This was a part of the reason Tony had so vehemently refused to let anyone remodel, or even enter, this sacred space. It was the only part of his home that he really felt like it was where he belonged. He felt such an unexplainable affinity for it that anyone else entering his lab better have damn good reason to be there. And as always, his faithful assistant did. He somewhat hesitated to call her an assistant, though. She did so much more than her job really entitled and he wondered why he didn't just throw her the CEO title and be done with it.

"Are you even listening?" Those vibrant blue eyes were frozen over with her vehement rage, and even though it took a lot to get to him, he felt a little something jump in his chest—not to mention his pants—at her ferocity. God, did he love a woman with a bite.

"I'm sorry; I couldn't hear you over that skirt." Tony quips back, leaning his chin on his hand; a pure picture of relaxation. It's not that it was a particularly vibrant or outlandish skirt, but it was one of her shorter numbers, as well as one he'd never seen before. The perfectly cut fabric hugged the curve of her ample bottom, and it took everything in his power not to reach out and give that supple asset a brush of his hand. He'd rather not take a trip to the emergency room for a crushed testicle and broken fingers.

Sometimes, she could be equally as terrifying as she was breathtaking.

"_Hilarious." _Pepper hisses, tugging at the hem of her skirt, which only causes it to shift tighter over her rear, "I said, you completely blew off a meeting with Justin Hammer to do—what? Sit here and play on your computer?" The genius arches a brow, snorting in distaste at the mention of _his _name. He didn't make his disdain for that idiot a secret, and he didn't think Pepper would be so surprised since she knew about his hatred more than anyone. Apparently he'd been wrong.

"Pepper, sweetheart—"

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Continuing. I would rather watch paint dry than utter a syllable to that pompous clown." Tony keeps his chin resting on his hand as he watches and studies her for that subtle twitch of her brow that meant he was really going to get a lashing, and to his dismay, he sees that twitch. He doesn't have time to defuse the situation before she tosses the files clutched in her manicured hands at him, the crisp pages scattering in front of him and across his desk.

"Do you even want this company to continue? Are you even _trying _anymore?" She slams her hands down on the arms of his chair, forcing him to sit back straight and stare up at her in wide eyed surprise, "Or would you rather it fail? I know you don't like Hammer. Nobody likes him. But we tolerate because business partnerships make money, and you need money to fund your ridiculous lifestyle and build all those ridiculously dangerous and unnecessary suits. Do you even know how much one of those suits costs?" She's close now. He can feel her hot breath on his face, and smell mint and a hint of some kind of fruit on her breath. His coffee colored eyes travel to her lips, seeing them pressed together in a tight line but still seeing the gleam of her subtle pink lipstick. He wonders if it's flavored.

"_Do you?" _She asks again, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he can restart his brain.

"Oh—I…a few grand?" He replies sheepishly, flashing a quick grin.

"A few _grand? Ha! _Each one of those suits costs at least one hundred million dollars. They're each a small fortune. You may be a billionaire now, but you won't be if you keep pushing off all of your duties on me! I can't take one day off because what would you do? You wouldn't know where to start. Where to even think of starting. You. Are. Not. This. Company. Anymore." Each word is its own deafening sentence, and he is actually struck speechless for a few moments.

Tony Stark was speechless.

No one had ever spoken so frankly to him before—nobody since his father, at least—and it was honestly a breath of fresh air. She wasn't sugar coating. She wasn't ass kissing. She was slapping him in the face with a good dose of reality.

"Oh, now you have nothing to say?" There's a deafening silence as her eyes bore into his, cobalt meeting chocolate. To be honest, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife, and the tension wasn't just radiating from Tony's end. Pepper had become quite the master when it came to keeping her cool around her boss, but on the rare occasion she snapped, she couldn't guarantee she'd keep everything so in control as she normally did; including the certain stirring in unwanted places that her unkempt boss spurred on.

Everything about him in that moment was unbelievably attractive. His eyes were wide and she could see his pupils had already expanded and were overtaking his irises. His lips were slightly parted, and she could smell the stench of vodka on his breath; she was dying to see if the taste matched. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and from this distance she could see the stubble that had grown across his jaw. It made him look so rugged, wild and masculine, especially with that mussed and untamed dark hair. Fuck him for being so attractive, and charming, and oh so irresistible.

Somehow, the two had been caught in a game of Chicken and were both waiting for the other to either turn away or close the miniscule distance between their parted lips. It was Tony that decided to end the game and shatter the tension, one hand moving to cup the back of her head and free her auburn locks from their restraining bun. He successfully tangles his fingers in her hair, and leans forward to finally close the distance between them.

Tony was by no means a virgin when it came to kissing a woman, but there were so many things that were different about this. When contact was finally made between their lips, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him simply from this foreign feeling. This wasn't just a meeting of flesh. There was something unique and powerful behind this kiss, and he was guessing she could feel it too with how she wasn't pulling away or slapping him. Yet. But of course, he had to push his boundaries. The hand that had undone her bun and was now sliding down her back was stopped by Pepper's quick hands. He finds his arm pressed against his chest and her wide blue eyes storm with conflict. She'd liked it, but she hadn't wanted to.

"Mr. Stark." She says, barely whispering her stern words and he flinches at being 'Mr. Stark'd', "We aren't doing this. Not—not with me and you—and with you being who you are, and what you do, and—" She's rambling again, in the way she does when she's scared, nervous or unsure. He figures there's only one way to really end her ramble, and he doesn't hesitate doing it.

His quick hands grab her by her hips and pull her forward, throwing her balance off of her towering heels and landing her on his lap. As quickly as she had fallen into his lap, his lips rejoined hers and he doesn't give her time to panic or overthink as he nibbles at her lower lip. He feels her hands press on his chest, attempting to push him away, but her efforts are weak and even he can tell that she's not fully into stopping him-stopping this. She wants this just as bad as he does.

The pressure of Pepper's hands on his chest lightens before her hands grip his shirt and pull him closer instead of pushing him away. His hands can't find a place to stay, not with this rare opportunity sitting in his lap. He has to feel and discover all of her while she still lets him. His deft fingers settle on the buttons holding her tailored suit jacket shut, popping each one of them open before shedding the jacket completely. She wore far too many clothes. The two just barely part for a breath, two pairs of lust clouded eyes meeting each other. Pepper's were tinged with doubt and uncertainty, but Tony's were only filled with lust and desire, the pupil overtaking the iris almost entirely.

She couldn't stop this now, no matter how much her inner monologue was screaming at her to pull away and put him back in his place. And she might have listened to it if it weren't for those damned magic hands of his. They'd already opened the buttons on her pressed shirt and dropped it next to her jacket, and she wished she'd gone with a more sexy number than the practical bra she was wearing. Not that he seemed to mind. Tony had found his way down to kiss along the top edge of her bra, and the rough hairs of his goatee on her skin was enough to send a shudder down her back and a bolt of pure lust to travel between her legs.

Pepper tangles one hand in his wild locks while the other grips the edge of his shirt, slowly working it up and off of him. The scars running across his chest are concerning to say the least, with the majority of them centering around the reactor imbedded in his chest. She runs her hands down from his shoulders to circle the reactor, her thumb gently tracing each thick scar. He'd put his body through so much on his path to becoming what he was, and it showed.

"It's not a turn off, is it?" Tony asks somewhat breathlessly, his dark eyes looking up at her with what she sees is honest concern. He hadn't slept with any random conquests since his return from Afghanistan, and she wondered if this was why. Was the ever confident Tony Stark self-conscious?

"No…no, I don't mind." She smiles, resting her hand on the glowing light as she leans back in to kiss him deeply. As soon as their lips come in contact once again, the lust between them explodes into a frenzy of hurried hands and discarded clothes until they find themselves naked and lying on the cold cement floor of his lab. Tony stares down at her, awestruck that this beautiful creature beneath him let him even get this far. Only his boxer briefs stood as a barrier between them now, and his extreme desire for her was obvious with the hard swell of his erection pressing against her inner thigh. She could guess why he had had such an easy time getting women into his bed if he was anywhere near as well-endowed as he felt.

But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to pull aside that last barrier. Her thumbs were hooked into the elastic of his underwear with her other fingers splayed out across the curve of his toned ass—which she had to admit was very impressive. But something inside of her knew that when these came off, this would be really real. Even in her fantasies of this situation, she never got past this point before she'd wake up. This was the point of no return.

And she was going to cross it. With a steeled resolve, she finally pulls the underwear down and tosses them aside, trying not to stare down at him to keep from blushing violently. He chuckles, seeing the red tint on her cheeks anyway that brings out her freckles even more. He has to admit, the little pops of color that travel from her cheeks down to pepper her breasts are one of the sexiest things he's seen in his life, and if it's even possible, he hardens further at the sight of them.

Her fingers dance over his straining need, and he groans at the touch. Everything about this experience was multiplied. Every touch was stronger, every breath was more desperate, and every look spoke a thousand words.

And they hadn't even gotten to the good part yet. With a not so subtle hint for him to grab a condom from his desk drawer, he's fully prepared to do what he'd been dreaming about since he'd first laid eyes on her. Pepper's hands find their way back to Tony's disheveled hair, keeping her eyes locked on his as she finally feels his sheathed cock press to her soaked need, and as soon as he fully enters her neither of them can be sure they aren't dreaming. Each movement and touch that follows elicits such powerful moans and screams from her that she's sure she won't be able to come into the office for at least two or three days.

And for once, she really didn't care. Her nails scrape down his back, and with every particularly deep thrust she draws a few beads of blood. This only spurs him on to really drive her wild, and he combines every single skill he'd learned over his years of sexual experience, driving her to new heights over and over. A knot of fire and pure pleasure built in her stomach, and with every thrust he stoked the fire until she was sure the pleasure was going to tear her in two.

It did just that. When Tony shifted her long legs to allow him even deeper access, her back arched from the cement and her hands roughly gripped his ass, pressing her as close as humanly possible to her as she rode out her orgasm with a scream of absolute exhilaration and pleasure. Tony followed only shortly after, coming to his peak so much more quickly than he was ever used to, but the added emotional aspect of this encounter was more stimulation than he'd ever had in his life. He wasn't sure if he could ever go back to meaningless, emotionless sex again after something like _this. _

For several long moments, they simply watch each other, letting their breathing and heartbeats slow to a regular rate. With her hair splayed out behind her wildly, damp with sweat, and her face flushed from the pleasure, he's sure he's never seen her looking more absolutely beautiful.

"Wow." He breathes out with a wide grin, "We could've been doing this all this time, you know." She rolls her eyes, pushing him back gently.

"No, we couldn't have. And we can't again. This…this was a one-time thing." The disappointment he feels at her statement is hard to keep from his face, "This was just to…resolve some things between us." He'd turned a lot of women down—_a lot—_but he'd never been rejected before. And honestly, it really did sting. To think you have something, someone, and then they tell you it was a one-time thing. Ouch.

"Yeah…sure. Back to business then?" At least he was a gifted liar.

"Back to business."


	2. Chapter 2

_This needs to stop._

Tony thinks to himself, lying sprawled out on his back on the gleaming surface of his desk. Everything that had once inhabited his desk now resided on the floor, most of the items having been carelessly dumped to their new resting spots. Not that he'd really cared much when he'd tossed everything to the floor, considering it was all cheap office stuff and one moderately overpriced monitor. Easily replaceable, unlike his sanity which he was sure was finally gone.

The inventor had always had a very obsessive and addictive personality, and it had followed him throughout his life whenever he found something interesting enough to dig his teeth into it and hold on. Whether that be sex, engineering or Pepper. And now that he'd metaphorically and literally had a taste of her, he needed her again. His mind was hell-bent on reminding him of this fact, constantly bombarding him with snippets of their encounter. What little focus he'd possessed before was completely redirected on remembering the swell of her breasts fitting perfectly into his hands, the way her hips had locked perfectly against his, and those devilish lips leaving burningly erotic kisses and hickeys along his jaw and neck.

It was giving him one hell of a problem when it came to wearing his fitted suit pants. The one solution that he'd tried first was drinking, but that only amplified the problem since he only became hornier when he was drunk. So, it wasn't exactly helpful. And with his one usual solution turning out to be a failure, he was forced to get creative and do what he was doing now.

Lying on his back with his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, his tie undone and hung loosely around his neck, he tried to imagine the most unattractive things he could think of. Tax forms, Obie, rehab clinics and the like. But every so often his traitorous brain managed to sneak in an image of Pepper lying beneath him, her voice taking on such a sultry and silky tone as she panted his name…

"_Tony…" _Christ, he couldn't take it anymore. Her voice sounded too real, too crystal clear, and it animated the fantasy, making her chest rise and fall as she panted with his thrusts. All hopes of killing his arousal with unsavory thoughts are abandoned as he presses a hand firmly to his straining erection, groaning as he imagines it being her delicate fingers feeling him.

"_Tony." _Her voice sounds more urgent now, and he imagines taking a pert nipple into his mouth, his wandering hand starting to rub himself hurriedly as his other hand rakes through his wild hair. He's practically drooling at how perfectly he can taste her velvet skin in his mouth.

"Tony!" Tony's pleasuring hand stills on himself as he realizes her voice sounds _far _too real to be part of his imagination. _If there is a God, this won't be Pepper._ He thinks to himself as he hesitantly opens one eye to look up at the figure standing over him. Fiery red hair spills over her shoulders in fat curls and vibrant blue eyes look down at him with just a hint of—well, he can't really tell. It looks pretty split between annoyance and slight embarrassment.

"There is no God." Tony huffs, pulling his legs up and his hand away from his need, "Good morning, Ms. Potts." He continues in an almost conversational tone, "Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

"We're in the middle of a thunderstorm, Mr. Stark." Pepper responds curtly, flipping a section of her red curls over her shoulder, "Aside from you…masturbating on your desk, have you accomplished anything today?" His brow furrows and he sits up, looking back at the paperwork he'd thrown from his desk. He recalled staring at the papers, and possibly scribbling something on one of them, but he definitely couldn't guarantee that it had been his signature.

"Ah…no, no I can't say I have." Tony responds, sliding off of his desk and into his desk chair, trying to avoid touching that problem still straining in his pants. As he tries to keep his body under control, his assistant sighs and bends to gather the discarded papers. This is exactly what he _doesn't _need, especially with her customary pencil skirt stretching tight over her firm ass as she does so. The shift in his pants almost drags yet another groan from him as he stares, and he curses his body for seeming to be hormonally stuck in the stage of puberty where literally anything vaguely shaped like a tit, or the curve of an ass turned him on.

Pepper returns to his desk far too quickly, and spreads the papers out in front of him. She retrieves a pen from behind her ear and sets it on top of the stack. She does all of this in relative silence, which has become quite the norm since their encounter in the lab. He's not entirely sure, but she seems to think that being relatively silent will help ease over the awkward tension that's built between them when in reality it only causes the tension to become unbearably thick. But his faithful assistant would never admit that one of her approaches _wasn't _working, so he wasn't about to bring it up. Instead, he takes the pen and rubs his temple as he scribbles a quick "TS" on each paper that requires his signature, knowing that bothering with reading the papers would be a colossal waste of his time.

Once he's finished signing each paper respectively she gathers them up into a neat stack and hugs them close to her chest. He can't help but notice how her breasts are forced upward by the papers.

"Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"Uh…Yeah." _No, I'd like to fuck your brains out._

"Very good. You have a meeting with Agent Coulson of Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, an interview for a new front desk administrator while Carolyn is on maternity leave—" _Speaking of someone doing it, how about we fuck in the supply closet? _"-a reactor demonstration for the technicians, and finally, you have to bang out some details on your speech concerning your most recent escapades as Iron Man."

"I would _love _to bang you in the bathroom." The long silence that follows Tony's frank statement leaves him confused for a few moments before he realizes that wasn't exactly an inner thought, "…I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"I'm afraid you did, Mr. Stark." Her voice is just a little too clipped and staccato for it to be natural, and a blush creeps across her cheeks before she tries to smother it with her hand, "I told you—I sent a memo about it too—that we are on strictly professional terms. _We _can't be a…a—"

"Fuck buddies?" Tony finishes, and he's met with a stern glare.

"_Couple. _Why does your mind always go to sex terms?" She says with a sigh, retrieving her pen.

"Because I'm of the male gender. You try having something between your legs that constantly demands to be put in something and then come talk to me."

"Well, I don't think you'd be very interested in me then, would you, Mr. Stark?" He loves when she quips with him. She's so fucking good at it, and she honestly gives him a run for his money.

"I don't know, maybe. As long as yours isn't bigger than mine, I think I could overlook it." She's trying to hide a grin now, pretending to fix her lipstick with her pinky finger. She loves these little intellectual battles as much as he does.

"_Anyway._" She says definitively, "You and I? We are _friends _at most." She dares to put two fingers under his chin and tilt his head up to force him to make eye contact with her, "Do I make myself clear, Stark?" He reaches up and takes her hand, kissing the backs of her fingers and nuzzling them against his cheek.

"_Crystal." _He murmurs into her knuckles in a definite more-than-friendly gesture. She simply rolls her eyes and turns from him, starting towards the door.

"Glad we cleared that up. Now, get back to work—and please avoid touching yourself, will you?"

"I'll do my best."  
-x-

Waking up had become an increasingly unpleasant experience for Pepper over the days since their encounter. As vivid and creative as Tony's mind could get, Pepper still had an overly active imagination at times as well that could parallel the inventor's. Even before she'd had physical proof of how Tony would feel inside of her, she'd imagined it in her dreams—the only place she thought it safe to fantasize about her boss.

Imagined him climbing out of his Iron Man armor, sweat sheening his bronzed skin as he stepped up to her and his almost too warm hands gripped her jaw. She'd feel the racing of his pulse through his palms, adrenaline still obviously coursing through his veins from the battle, and when he'd mash his surprisingly soft lips against hers she'd be able to feel the pulse there too. Soon enough, she'd be able to feel his pulse everywhere. Feel it through the hand travelling over his suddenly shirtless torso before tossing aside his belt and through the lips that press to his naked inner thigh. She'd feel the shudder of desire that ran through him at the tender touch, and watch the rising of his cock inside his increasingly restricting underwear. And right as her confident fingers were about to tug that teasing article of clothing away, she'd gasp to consciousness with her alarm wailing.

Of course this would leave her with a particularly demanding problem boiling in her very core which she would quickly take care of during her morning shower, imagining her bosses work roughened hands spearing her and pushing her to her much needed climax. And then she'd make herself presentable and meet that very same man, pretending that she hadn't imagined every inch of his body grinding against her. No fuss, no muss.

But now that she'd crossed that line with him, it was making it so hard just to wake up and force that fantasy to end in the shower. She _knew _what every inch of that rough, scarred skin felt like under her slick hands, how his stiffened member felt under her fingers, and how undeniably perfect their hips had fit together. Every added layer of realism to her fantasies made watching Tony strut—and yes, the correct word was strut. He always walked with this little bounce in his heels. Like he owned the world and he _knew _it—into the office even harder. Well, harder to do without ruining her panties.

And right when she'd convinced herself she was capable of forgetting anything and everything that had happened between her and her boss, she'd caught him vigorously masturbating on his desk. Of course. At least he'd had his pants on.

_This time. _She adds mentally. In her years of working for him, she'd caught him pleasuring himself more than once, and she usually didn't have the good luck of him wearing pants. Despite her good fortune this time, though, it still ignited her in a way she had told herself Tony couldn't cause. Watching his cock push at the fabric of those tailored pants as he rubbed himself with practiced ease had been hard to ignore, and the evidence had slickened her panties torturously. She almost wanted to quit on him just to save herself this sexual frustration. Almost. She kept herself from actually quitting by knowing he'd just pout or smooth talk his way into keeping her around for another year.

So she shook her head, clearing it of the notion of quitting as she sets Tony's coffee on his desk in his workshop in front of him. The cup is accompanied by a thick stack of various envelopes and packages.

"I checked your mail. The parts you ordered for the Camaro are here, you got some thank you letters for attending that middle school Science Fair—" Tony interrupts her with a groan.

"Twenty-four baking soda volcanoes." He mumbles, grabbing the package containing the car parts he'd ordered, "The fate of science is really doomed, isn't it?" He tosses aside the packaging, admiring the gleaming chrome of the part.

"They're children, Tony." She frowns, starting to sort the mail from least to most importance.

"I could've built a motorcycle from scratch at their age."

"Not everyone's Tony Stark."

"Well, they should be."

"The world wouldn't be able to handle it." They're left in a comfortable silence, Pepper leaning over his desk as he cradles the car part close to his chest and watches her. He loves watching her work. The way her hands float from task to task, effortlessly dancing across the papers. His eyes moved up her arms to appreciate the way the movement of her arms pressed her breasts together, but to his surprise he doesn't linger there. He finds himself looking up to her face hiding behind her bangs. Soft, pink lips; wide, blue eyes with a tasteful amount of mascara ringing them—never too much, never too little; and a nose that got the tiniest of wrinkles on the sides when she was frustrated.

These were little things Tony had noticed, which came as a shock to him, considering he so rarely noticed little things about others. He was so busy seeing the big picture that little things like that often got lost. But not when it came to Pepper. Everything was different when it came to Pepper. And now he was going to prove it.

"Let's go out." Tony blurts and Pepper's hands still as she shifts the mail.

"What?" She almost whispers, her brow furrowing.

"Let's go out. Like…on a date." He clarifies, sitting back and tapping his fingers against the car part in his hands. It had been _years _since he'd actually been on a formal, proper date—most of the time he'd skip the wining and dining and take them straight to his bedroom—but if he was going to find a way to make her feel safe enough to fuck him, to trust him, again, he'd need to take the traditional route.

"A date?"

"A date. You and me. _Alone_. Doing…couple things." He shrugs, rubbing his neck in a rare moment of gaucheness. He really wasn't entirely sure what couples _did _on dates. But he doesn't have much time to further ponder it as she walks around the desk slowly and he turns to face her. Without the desk standing as a barrier between them, the natural pull he has towards her is almost painful.

"This is an excuse to get in my skirt, isn't it?" The red head asks in a steady but deadly tone and his fingers dig into the arms of his chair.

"I doubt it would fit me." He sarcastically responds and she responds only with a sigh.

"You know what I mean." She focuses on adjusting the sleeves of her jacket rather than meeting his caramel eyes, "Look, if I agree to one very platonic date, will you leave me alone? Keep this relationship professional?"

"You've got a deal."

-x-

She finally agrees to go out on a date with the man, and he stands her up. _Figures._ Pepper thinks to herself, reaching into her clutch and checking her Blackberry. The time reads 8:55 PM, a full forty-five minutes later then when they'd agreed to meet. _The man would be late to his own funeral. _She continues, her fingers tapping against the table impatiently. _Five more minutes, Potts, then we're going home…and I mean it this time._

Five minutes quickly pass.

Then ten.

Then fifteen tick by and the red head stands from the table, furious with herself for thinking Tony could take something seriously for once, and even more angry at the fact that she'd fallen for his trick. She should've said no to this whole idea. Her heels click against the lonely cement as she walks and she hugs herself slightly, the strapless dress offering very little protection from the cold. She pulls out her phone as she walks, beginning to dial the number to call a cab but silently curses as the screen goes dark with a dead battery. _Perfect. Absolutely perfect. _She internally hisses, angrily throwing her phone back in her clutch and storming down the sidewalk.

She supposes her apartment isn't too far from here, thankfully, and continues to walk. Her apartment was in an upscale area of Malibu, so she let herself fall into a somewhat relaxed state as she walks through the darkened streets. She approaches a crosswalk, pausing to check for cars and nearly jumping out of her skin when a male hand rests on her shoulder. She figures it must be Tony—_coming to beg me to give him a second chance, no doubt. _

"Tony—" Pepper starts sternly, turning to face the man but stopping as she sees it isn't her boss.

"I'm sorry to have startled you." The mystery man answers, just barely out of the reach of the streetlight. She could see he was well built, and his features were strong, "But I was wondering if you could give me directions." His voice was deep, so much so that it sounded almost artificial, as if he were using some kind of voice modifier.

Pepper was no fool. She knew the world wasn't pretty, or safe, and that she needed to keep herself protected. So she holds her clutch tightly and steps back from him cautiously, her voice a steady and even tone.

"There should be maps in that convenience store over there. I'm sure that will be more helpful than I could be." Her fingers feel along the outside of her clutch for the small can of pepper spray she normally carried, satisfied to find it where it always was.

"Oh, but those maps wouldn't give me such…lovely company." Her hand tightens on the outline of the pepper spray.

"I'm not interested." She turns on her heel, hurriedly crossing the crosswalk and hoping against hope that the man won't follow her. But on the off chance that he does, she reaches inside her bag and holds the cold canister in her hand. For a few long moments, she thinks he's gone on his way, and she tries to relax herself a bit.

Her attempt at relaxation is shattered as the same rough hands grab her once again, spinning her around. As fast as she possibly can, she pulls the pepper spray from her clutch and prepares to fire the stinging liquid at him. However, he's just as fast as she is. His hand grabs hers, the thick fingers standing in the way of the stream and the liquid sprays against his fingers. As soon as she lets off the button he yanks her wrist roughly, forcing the canister from her hand and out into the street.

"You will not end our fun so quickly, pretty girl."

-x-

A/N: I never actually planned to continue this fic. It was supposed to be a oneshot smut fic (my first smut fic, actually), but due to popular demand I've added a second chapter. ~ QueenSkellington


	3. Chapter 3

Pepper had no idea where to run. Whoever he was, he was everywhere at once. His broad shoulders blocked her field of vision behind him, and the thick flesh of his arms caged her against him and the alley wall he'd forced her against. His lips were rough and demanding against her unwilling ones, and she attempts to bite him. But as soon as her teeth make purchase on his lip, his cruel hands tangle in her hair and yank it back so forcefully and painfully that it rips a pained scream from her throat as her head is wrenched backwards.

"You will stop fighting me!" He snarls, continuing tug at her hair. He takes the opportunity to claim her neck, sucking and biting on the pale skin violently. The pricks of pain make hot tears boil in her eyes before spilling over and trickling down her heated cheeks. Even in the darkest points of her life, she has never felt so completely trapped and helpless. Every movement that she makes in an attempt to struggle is squashed by the mountain of man before her.

"Shhh…" He hisses, and her breath comes out in a panicked rush, "You will enjoy this. I will make you." She cries out in violation as he palms her womanhood, finding he's already hitched the skirt of her dress over her hips to reveal her laced black panties. Every fiber in her body coils in disgust and indignation and she does her best to squirm away from his prying digits. _No. No, no, please __**God **__no. _She cries internally as his hands make quick work of her panties, tossing them aside into the darkness of the alleyway.

A blush heats her entire frame as she presses her legs together, feeling more vulnerable and horribly exposed than she ever has in her life. And he's _laughing _at her. Her hands that had been focused on trying to cover herself now balled into fists in rage at him laughing at her pain, and she decides that she isn't going to give up and let this happen. She was going to give it the best fight she could. She may not be any judo master, but she knew how to at least throw a punch.

He forces those invasive fingers into her, causing her to attempt a scream before one hand plants itself firmly on her mouth, forcing her to internalize her screams. His thick fingers scissor, causing a disgusted shiver to dart up her spine as he forces a third finger into her entrance and she has no choice but to wriggle on his hand as his threatening erection slams against her thigh. But even through the violation and tears, she can see that both his hands are busy, meaning he can't stop any oncoming attacks. So she brings her hand up and swings it quickly enough that it connects to his jaw before he can even think to stop it. Although the hit didn't look like it had much of an effect, it _did _shock him into pausing for a few moments. She takes advantage of this short gap to bring her knee up and slam it between his legs, landing a hard hit right against the sensitive area of his excited groin.

His reaction is nearly immediate. His knees give out beneath him as falls to the ground, favoring his wounded crotch. Pepper is satisfied to see tears have reached his eyes, and takes a moment to slam her heel—her very sharp, very tall heel—into the offended area before pulling her skirt back down to cover herself. His body convulses at the blow, and a small victorious smile spreads across her lips. She tugs her skirt back down to a respectable length as she walks past him, scooping up her clutch and panties as she does so.

Her legs and hands are shaking violently as she exits the alleyway, and it takes every ounce of her inner strength to keep her face impassive. No matter how strong her stance might read, though, she's absolutely wrecked inside as she dissects how close she'd just come to being so totally violated. Her skin crawls at the memory of his uncaring fingers groping, feeling and invading her. _I need a bath….in…in bleach and peroxide or __**something. **_

She repeatedly looks over her shoulder as she makes her way from that God forsaken alley. Her hurried walk slowly builds into a run, feeling no matter how fast she pushes herself that _he _is right behind her. That the heavy thumb of his steps are echoing just inches behind her. Her impractical heels pinch at her feet as she runs, but she ignores the pain. She can't stop until she's inside of her apartment, even to remove these damned shoes.

So she keeps running. She keeps running as the tears force themselves from her eyes and smears her mascara into thick black streaks. She lets out a choked noise of relief as she sees the outline of her apartment complex in the distance, making her way into the elevator and to her door in record time. The shaking of her hands make fitting the key into the lock difficult, but she eventually manages it and throws herself inside. She immediately slams the door behind herself, engaging every lock attached to it.

As she worriedly watches the door, she thinks how she should've taken Tony's offer to install a better security system. _Tony. _The name tastes sour on her tongue as she connects what exactly had happened tonight and the series of events. _Tony _had asked her out. _Tony _had stood her up. If neither of those things had happened, she wouldn't have been violated like she had. But she can't think blame right now. The dam she'd built to get herself home finally exploded and out rushed the flood of tears.

She could still _feel _those fingers inside of herself. _I need to burn this dress. _She thinks to herself, stripping out of the offending clothing and throwing it to the floor and the panties and heels quickly follow. She plucks the bobby pins that survived the assault out of her hair, tossing them on the pile as well. She didn't want any reminders of this night lingering in her apartment, and she promised herself that the next morning she'd discard them. But first she needed to wash his filth off of her.

So she cranks the water of the shower to be as scalding hot as she can stand and steps under the stream, the water being so warm that it makes her tears feel cool.

-x-

Sitting in the middle of the nearly deserted room, Tony spat out the mouthful of blood that he'd collected at his captor.

"Fuck off." He said matter-of-factly. Tony's head was ringing, his vision was at least double, if not triple, and a gash running from his temple up to the middle of his forehead was sluggishly running crimson fluid into his eyes.

"Mr. Stark…" His captor started with a warning tone, dancing the glistening knife between his filthy fingers before slamming the entirety of the blade through the inventor's wrist, "I did not go to the trouble of capturing you to be disrespected." He wipes the blood from his cheek, flicking it from his hand with the disinterest of a parent experiencing a child's worn tantrums. Meanwhile, Tony was doing his best to try and ignore the absolute agony of the knife lodged in his wrist, not wanting to give his captor the satisfaction of seeing the pain that was silently festering inside of him.

"Too bad." He responds shortly, his teeth clenched together in tight resolve, "Because—"

"Shh…enough talk, Stark. As I was saying, I did not bring you here to disrespect me. I brought you here to kill you." He's circling Tony now in a purely predatory manner and the genius is entirely ashamed of the pang of fear that twists in his gut, "No mission, no tradeoffs, no chances for you to make some fantastic armor and blast your way out. No, I don't make mistakes like that. A mind like yours…" Tony inhales deeply as a finger is ground into the gash in his temple, "Can't be restrained. Can't be captured, so the only way to surely keep you in one place—"

A deafening silence follows before Tony listens to a noise that he would recognize anywhere. A gun being assembled. He mentally recants each part as it's put together. _Barrel. Magazine. Silencer. _He pauses as he considers this. _Silencer? _If he was putting a silencer on the gun, it was obvious that this place wasn't quite as deserted as he'd originally thought. He squinted in the darkness to see just where this room could belong so he could even begin to guess where he was and what kind of people could be outside that flimsy door.

"Is in a coffin. But I will allow you one last word. What are the final words of the great Tony Stark?" His captors face is nothing but a shadow as Tony narrows his eyes, his hands clenching in their binds.

"Can we break for lunch yet?" The room around him fizzles out of focus as he removes the helmet and goggles, raking his hands through his flattened hair. The S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel at the monitoring stations let out a collective groan as their subject rolls out of his seat and tosses the multi-million dollar equipment onto it carelessly.

"Mr. Stark, it's seven in the morning. We were going to break for breakfast in an hour, but because you crashed the system like that—"

"You're going to have to recalibrate it, whatever, I can do that in a few seconds." A frustrated huff sounds from the operating panel.

"Never mind. Just…go home. That's enough training for today—well, technically two days." Tony pauses, furrowing his brow a bit in confusion.

"Two days?"

"You were under for quite some time. Not that it did any good." For the most part, Tony ignores what the operator says. He mentally goes over whatever important events he might've had planned for those two days, but it's a foggy recollection at best. Pepper always served as his personal calendar, and without her reminding him—

"Oh." He simply says as his mind sticks on the subject of Pepper.

"_Oh."_

-x-

When Tony was nervous, he had to do something with his hands. It was a habit he'd had since childhood, and it persisted into adulthood. So as he stood outside Pepper's door with at least four dozen roses—possibly more, considering he'd hastily grabbed them from a flower stand and thrown a hundred dollar bill at the operator—he couldn't help but cradle the flowers in one arm and pick at the peddles with another. She was taking a long time to get to the door, and he was starting to think it was a voluntary choice of hers.

He once again knocks heavily, listening for any footsteps that might be approaching the door. None. His eyes then flicker down to the door handle. It's a simple lock, something he could pick in less than a minute, but he'd always had enough respect for Pepper to not do something that underhanded.

"Pepper?" He calls, looking around the empty walkway for anyone who might be watching this pathetic display, "Pepper, I know I fucked up, please let me in." Silence follows and it's only another ten minutes before he sets down the flowers and gets on one knee, taking the knob of the door into his hand. With his free hand he reaches into his pocket for the small tool kit he kept on himself for any engineering emergencies, and removes his smallest screwdriver from it. He usually used this for removing tiny screws, but it worked equally well for this purpose.

With just a few moments of concentration and calibrated movements of his skilled fingers, the lock gives way with a click and he grins victoriously before tucking away the screwdriver. He then twists the knob and starts to push the door open only to have his progress halted by a chain lock on the top of the door. Which he would need some kind of saw to cut through, and he knows he's already in deep enough shit as it is. He doesn't need to vandalize her door and add on top of it. So instead of going back to his car for a saw, he stands and slides his fingers through the crack between the door and the frame to try and unhook the chain.

He only works at this for a few moments before the door is slammed on his fingers and he lets out a shriek. He's nearly certain that something's broken, and the bases of his fingers are already turning purple. "Shit—Pepper! It's me! Ow—fuck—" The pressure is relieved from his fingers and he can just barely see the light catch her cobalt eyes through the door. He can't really read her expression, but if he had to guess, he'd say pissed. He removes his hand from the door and rubs it sorely, finding nothing's broken but he's definitely going to have some gnarly bruises.

"Go away, Anthony." His blood runs cold at the use of his full name. _Anthony _was even worse than Mr. Stark. Way worse.

"I'm so sorry, I know I stood you up but I have a good excuse, I promise!" He's almost ashamed by his own whining, begging tone. Since when did he _beg? Since you became a major fuck up now keep at it. _He chides himself, resting his head on the door, "Just let me in and we can talk." More silence follows and he feels that he might explode from the tension. He lets out a relieved sigh when he hears the chain unlock and the door swings open. He sees Pepper is dressed in one of her more conservative robes, the end of it dragging along the ground and the sleeves nearly overtaking her hands. Her hair is contained in a loose bun and her face is completely clear of makeup. He stops to admire how she manages to look beautiful without it but his thought is stopped dead in its tracks when he sees the red around her eyes. She's been crying and he'd never felt like worse scum than he does right now.

"Are you coming in or not?" The ice in her tone sends a shamed chill down his spine and he scoops up the flowers before he walks into her apartment with his head down. Before he's two steps into the apartment he's already babbling out an excuse. His brain has always worked too fast for his mouth to keep up with, and when he let it get out of hand he ended up sounding like a stuttering idiot. A well-articulated apology/excuse in his mind ended up sounding like a babbled nonsensical ramble if it went unchecked and that's exactly what was happening now.

"Stop." Pepper says simply, holding up a hand, "You stood me up. I'm sure you have some reason that you think is just amazing, but…" She rubs her face tiredly, "Tony, I honestly don't want to hear it. I've gone through too much in the past two days and you weren't there. You weren't _anywhere._"

"But Pepper, I was—"

"Probably doing something amazing. Inventing, or crime fighting or—I don't know. And I know that you have every right to be a superhero if you want to be but, Tony, that life—_your _life—has no place for me in it. There's just not enough room for both Iron Man and me." He's speechless. A thousand different sentiments are jammed in his throat and he struggles to get one out.

"I can't…I can't choose between the two…" He manages and she offers a small, sad smile.

"I'm not making you. I knew this couldn't work, and that it can't ever work. You can be a hero, but a stable relationship with you…it just can't happen. So from now on, there's no more pet names, no more informality. You are Mr. Stark, and Iron Man, and I am Ms. Potts." She tilts her chin up in that highly professional manner that he instantly recognizes and she looks so put together, he can only envy her conviction to being so professional, "Understood?"

"No, no no, Pepper, please, I can make this work!"

"Tony—_Mr. Stark. _You don't need to. I'm making this work in the only way that's guaranteed not to fail. I'm making this easier for you. You don't have to worry about me anymore. That is to say you were at all." Her tone is bitter, and he scoffs at her accusation of him not caring.

"Of course I cared about you! I am always worried that you're okay! I'm always trying to keep you safe! How can you say—"

"Then where were you when I was almost raped?" She hisses out her words, the air rushing through clenched teeth. Tony was so unprepared for her statement that he physically rocks backwards as if he's been struck, his eyes widening in shock.

"_What?" _He responds in nearly a whisper, his brain doing double time to try and properly process what's been said to him.

"The night of our date, _two days ago…_I was walking home and this…this guy…he jumped me and cornered me in an alley and he…he…" Her voice is quivering, and she has to speak around a lump in her throat, "He tried to rape me. He only got his…his fingers in _there _before I was able to fight him off." A disgusted shiver goes up her spine and she hugs herself in a subconscious attempt at closure, "I managed to get home but…but I can still _feel _him. I needed someone here to help me through the disgust and how sickened I was by him; by what happened, by myself and…and you were nowhere. I waited for you to come, or call, or text, or _anything _and I got nothing." He offers no rebuttal, but simply stays planted to the ground with his hands crushing the stems of the flowers still gripped in his fists. The thorns pierce through their plastic wrapping and slice into his palms but the pain is too far beyond the anger for him to register.

"Tony?" His eyes, the ones that usually burned with a soft caramel color, had a look of pure opal now. Darkness burned in their depths with his fury, and he releases the roses as his knuckles let out a _pop _at the change in pressure.

"Somebody. Touched. You." He speaks each word as a sentence and she can honestly say she's only seen such fury within him once or twice in her ten years of knowing him.

"You can't find him. There's no evidence to go off you have no—"

"I don't need it. I will find him. And kill him."

-x-

A/N: Soooooo…this is a little late. Like 5 Months late. Sorry.


End file.
